Roving Empire
by Vicious Dice
Summary: A broken man, cracked beyond recognition and set on a maniacal quest to conquer what is left and unite it under a banner of something that was never really there.
1. Chapter 1

Ch. 1

He felt at home. He truly felt at home for the first time since he could remember. It was a strange thing to see and perceive everything you have ever known as some other place. A place to sleep, eat, work and survive but never really a place to truly call ones home.

Carver had resided in Vault 101 for as long as he could remember, so he assumed, 'twas the place of his birth. It was a stale, cold, and barely filled prison for which he had been stuck. And supposedly the only inhabitable place for life. Protecting the denizens that lived within from what lay beyond the door. The horrors, mutations that must roam in what is left of the world we once lived and thrived and called our own. Or so we were told.

You see, Carver was never satisfied with the Overseers 'propaganda' that was told to them day in and day out. He firmly suspected that there was life, people, beyond where they were caged and they were purposely being lied to, misled for some purpose and he was determined to see beyond these hallow walls.

But that is for another time. For now we must study Carver the boy, how he grew, who he was and why was that.

He was brought up in a cruel and empty place, with only a father to raise him. A father who blamed him severely for the demise of Carver's mother, 'His first victim', his father would often say. Punishment, beating and whippings was a common occurrence in his household. Bloody and raw but never on any body part that could be seen by who should not see it. For a real reason or not, it soon became clear over the years, it did not matter to his father. Drunk or sober, his father was never satisfied with the day until his son bleed and cried out in pain. Over time, Carver ceased to feel. It's a good thing.

When he was young he thought it was because of how he looked. For he knew that physically, he was very different than the young kids around him. He has always been pale. Far paler than one should, even growing up in a Vault, tall for his age as well as a face that seemed older than his young age but that was not the strangest difference. He was born with pure white hair. Exactly the color of snow, for which he had heard some about. He also knew that when you get much older, that was how your hair is suppose to turn white but he was born with it along with his bizarre eyes, like red rubies that seemed to flicker and glow in the dark. Carver knew from the first time he looked in the mirror that he was different. He was scared for the first time.

The difference did not just stop at his physical form. No his mind was different, far more vast and open in its scope than any other his age. For he seemed to absorb knowledge, like a sponge water. It did not matter the kind. Weapons, armor, science, lock picking, manipulation; all that mattered was that it captured his fancy. Loneliness is what started it. Books were his first true friend.

In the end, Caver grew up an all-together beautiful man, all be it a bizarre one at that.

He grew up knowing that he would never advance, never truly achieve in life, and he would never have anyone to hold onto. At least, not in Vault 101 but that is for the future. Let us yet tinkle once more in the past.

At the tender age of ten, young Carver was given a Pip-boy 3000. The only gift he has ever gotten, that he could remember but not really because of his birthday, only because everyone expected to work and be a citizens of Vault 101 was to have a Pip-boy 3000. There was no party to speak of but then again, he had never had one, so it was not like it was anything new in his life.

His Pip-boy 3000 soon became his only companion, because it was with him always. Lighting up when needed, never withholding information and it brought with it the wonder of music. Pip was his world for a long time. And yes in his brilliance, he recognized how pathetic that was but with all he has endured he no longer believed himself sane or human for that matter.

So armed with Pip and as much knowledge as he could get his hands on, Carver preserved for six years through his father's cold and manic beatings, the unfairness of the system of the vault (thanks to the Overseer.), the taunts and pranks of his classmates as well as the barely held off sense of despair. Over all obstacles, he just kept moving and moving and moving and moving until he could ignore the cold, bland world forced on him since birth.

At sixteen, he went bravely, to do what was expected of him. To take the mandatory G.0.A.T. test. The Generalized Occupational Aptitude Test was a test all in the vault went through to be assigned their place they will serve in. A job of sorts. Carver knew not to be concerned with it because no matter what he will answer, the Overseer will have made it so he got the lowest job possible. It was to be expected. Its questions were laughable. So much so that Carver suspected that they were made for that purpose but he had just sighed and answered to the best of his ability. He was not disappointed in learning that he had become a Garbage Burner. His father was not impressed. Not in the slightest.

It was just threes years later that he had begun to resign himself to his fate. Trapped and empty for all to see and laugh at, when something happened that has never happened. The vault door had been opened and out went father.

Face smiling slightly, Carver eyes burned brightly in the artificial night.


	2. Chapter 2

Ch. 2

Carver was a blur of hurling motion as he gripped the intruder in his room around the neck, hearing said intruder gasping helplessly for breathe. For a moment he contemplated never letting go; to see how far this foolish person would go to free themself. Or would they simply die but as he to time to study them, ironically the last person that Carver would have thought of, Amata Almodovar. The apple of Overseer Alphonse Almodovar eye had ventured down the rabbit hole, so to speak. Pondering his choices, he decided that he quite enjoyed life. For if he harmed a single hair on Amata hair the Overseer would stop at nothing to _exterminate_ him. It would be a very excrusiating, bloody and long death.

Smiling without humor, Carver let her go, taking seat on his soft, ordinary bed, turning to see Amata holding her throat, red-faced from lack of oxygen. She coughed for a few minutes before she felt ready enough to speak.

"Carver, [cough] what was that for?" She finally asked.

He merely shruggled in response. Seeing that he wasn't going to answer her, Amata continued, quickly gaining his attention, "Your father is gone and my dad's men are looking for you."

Pale face puzzled he asked, "What do you mean, 'gone'?"

Grim-faced she continued, "Your father somehow opened the vault door and escaped the vault. My dad…, he's gone crazy."

"How does this concern me?" Carver coldly asked her.

"You don't understand, if my dad's guards find you, they'll kill you," She exclaimed in freight.

Snorting he asked. "What does this have to do with me?"

Confused, Amata explained. "Jonas is dead, my dad ordered the guards to do it. Now they're coming here to do it to you too."

Puzzled Carver thought about it and a question came glaringly to focus in his mind, 'Why would she warn me?', they had never spoken a word to each other. They were barely aware of each other's excistence. Carver was the outcast of Vault 101 and Amata was like its princess. She had no reason or concern for him.

"Why?" Was the simple question.

She seemed confused at his question, for she just stood looking at him dumbly for a moment before asking back, "What?"

"Why warn me? I'm nothing to you."

Now her face seemed to warm up deeply, shyly biting her lip as she twitted her fingers together. Amata just gazed up at Carver, not answering the question. Seeming to be mesmerized by what she saw.

Sighing at the lack of response, he took matters into his own hands by moving swiftly to stand in front of her, taking her chin in his hand, and turning her face up to him, asking again, angrily. "Why do you help me?"

Gasping softly at his touch she couldn't seem to be able to speak. Tightening his grip sharply she hurryingly answered him. "I- uh, well you see the reason… The reason is very, its…"

Frowning darkly down at her shaking form, face burning deeper still before she finally just threw herself at Carver, throwing her arms around his neck, pressing her lips to his firmly.

Standing up straight in shock, lifting Amata off the ground in the process, Carver's only thought was this, 'So this was a kiss'.

Running her hands though his long snow-white hair, she deepened the kiss just as he stared to return it, taking her in his arms tightly, her toes curling in delight. And there they stood, as one being for a time. Locked in a sweet embrace, blissfully ignoring the world around them, until they heard the sharp screams far off, in the other parts of the vault.

Breaking apart, breathing deeply, Amata was blushing, as she looked up at Carvers winded face, happy about the affect she had on him.

Shaking himself from the effects of their kiss, he moved away from her, taking his seat on his bed again, commanding firmly, "Continue."

It took a moment for her to remember what they were discussing. "I can help you escape. I have a plan." She told Carver proudly, before she continued, "There is a secret tunnel that leads directly from my dad's office to the exit. All you have to do is hack his computer to get it to open." Taking a key from her pocket, she passed it to him, saying, "Use this to open the door."

Nodding his head to her, Caver pocketed the key, and then turned to see Amata taking out what he thought to be a 10mm pistol. Shrugging her shoulders, she handed it to him, saying thusly, "I stole my dad's pistol, and I hope you don't have to use it but you should take it just in case."

Gripping the small weapon in hand, Carver felt a sense of peace wash over him, small smile adorning his face. 'This feels right. I feel complete.' Cocking it back and then taking aim at the small light on his desk, happy to see that it had a red sight on it. Content with her gift, he tucked it under his belt turning to she Amata looking at him strangely.

Turning around and pushing aside his pillow, Carver grasped his copy of _Grognak the Barbarian_, issue #1. Smiling down at his perfect copy, he turned back to her, moving over to her small form, holding it out to her.

Confused, she took it from me, asking him, "What's this for?"

A small smile bloomed on his face as he nodded to her saying, "A gift for a gift. Mmmm…my only true property. It's yours."

Face breaking out in a huge smile, she seemed to be crying, holding the comic to her chest firmly, "Oh, Carver. This… is so…Thank you. Thank you so much."

Confused he watched as she held it to her chest tightly, not wanting to let it go it seemed but before he could ask what was wrong, she told him shakingly. "I'll me you at the exit." Before she took off out of his room.

Frowning after her fast-moving form, Carver simply shrugged as he went about collecting what he would bring and putting it into a small old backpack; ten stimpaks, a med-x, a few bobby pins, an extra vault 101 jumpsuit, the pistol and some rounds that went with it. Zipping it up and putting it on, Carver gripped his baseball bat as he exited his small room, into the living room and then finally out the door.

Carver was greeted by a loud alarm, and a loud exclaim of, "There he is, hold it right there!" by one of the guards, police baton in hand, about to come at him, before he was attacked by at least six Radroaches, swinging it wildly as they jumped to attack the guard. Carver just sat back and watched as the guard killed two before he was overcome. It wasn't long before they noticed Carvers presence, scurrying over to him to attack. Disgusted, he swung the bat, killing one instantly, while sending another flying into the wall, crippling it. Grunting, he took care of the others and then just smashing the last with his foot. After that, he took his time, stripping the guard of his uniform, taking his police baton in hand.

Moving along down the hall, he was stopped by a frantic Butch, yelling for help, "You gotta help me. My mom's is stuck in there with the Radroaches."

Face a cold mask, Carver asked him. "You're asking me for help?"

"Look I'm sorry, I didn't mean any of it I swear. It's my mom, man. You gotta help me." Butch pathetically pleaded. As Caver stood there and did nothing, hefting the baton in hand, Butch pleaded again. "You can't just leave her there."

"Of course I can. Watch me." Carver told him in a tight, angry voice.

"No, please. I'll do anything. You can join the Tunnel Snakes, I'll be your best friend forever." He begged again.

Laughing coldly, Carver smiled at him as he said, "Good luck with that."

Face red with anger, Butch all but screamed. "You're a real bastard, you know that? I hate your guts, you fucking coward!"

Butch turned from him, running to the window where his mother was trapped, the Radroaches attacked her. Angrily, Carver followed behind him, smacking him in the back of the head sharply and down Butch went. Grabbing him from around his neck, Carver lifted him up and slammed Butch's face into the glass, telling him firmly, "You will watch this."

"Let me go!" He franticly told me, "Get off!"

"Take in these last moments tunnel rat, for they will be the last you see of mummy dearest." Smirking down at his horrified and bloody face, Carver slammed his face again as he tried to close his eyes or look away.

And so they watched as his mother was brutally attacked by the Radroaches until she fell over dead. It didn't take long. Soon after they began to feed off her, Butch's sobs filling the hall they were in.

After Carver felt it was time to go, he took the switchblade from Butches pocket, flicking it open before him as he spoke again, "Oh, don't be sad, dear boy. For you will be join her soon enough."

With a small swipe of the sharp blade, Butch grasped his neck as blood began to pool like a fountain from his heck, falling onto the floor. As he flailed around on the floor, Carver felt the need to give him a few swift kicks in the groin and then smashing his face into the floor. Smiling down at Butch, knowing that he will soon be dead, Carver took his leave of him, whistling softly.

Crouching around a corner, he saw nothing, passing the kitchen he moved on down the hall, passing the way onto the Reactor Core and up some stairs. In the next area, he came upon another guard being attacked by Radroaches. Moving up behind him, Carver took out Butches switchblade, taking him from around the neck and cleanly slicing his neck. He fell over limply, Radroaches upon him in minutes to eat his corpse. Leaving them be, he moved on, passing Andy the robot, burning Radroaches with his flamethrower. Not taking notice of Carver, he moved on, into the Atrium.

Moving into the open courtyard, he spotted two people, arguing with each other before the male one, ran off, the female not far behind him. Several gunshots going off telling him what became of them. Crouching around to see what killed the, Carver spied two guards, armed with 10mm pistols, the couple dead at their feet, throwing his baton swiftly, he smacked one in the leg, as they both look at the offending object Carver took aim with his pistol, taking out the first with one clean shot to the head and then the other in the throat. Taking their guns and ammo, he moved on.

Heading up stairs, taking out a few more Radroaches as he went, he came upon a man screaming obscurities as soon as he saw Carver, banging on the wall. Ignoring him, he moved on.

He came upon a dead working, Radroaches surrounding him, sneaking around them, Carver moved on.

Coming upon Jonas' corpse, he paused for a moment, and then looted his body. Moving on afterwards.

Finally at the Overseer's door, he took out his pistol, just in case there was anyone in there and opened it. Finding it empty, Carver quickly searched the room, finding some more bullets for his pistol, mentats, Stimpaks and the Overseer's Terminal Password; ironically, Amata.

Accessing it, he browsed through what it contained, finding that it contained several scouting reports, to the surface. Finding some interesting information about the surface, marking the locations mentioned into his Pip-Boy 3000. 'The Capital Wasteland.' Carver thought with wonder, 'My home.' Moving on he found about the purpose of the vault. 'Control Group? We're nothing but social experiments.' He thought with a grimace. Hacking into the computer, Carver downloaded all information from there onto his Pip-Boy 3000, knowing it would be useful later on.

It took no time to find and open the secret tunnel, the desk rising up and the floor under it opening up, a large door unlocked. 'Almost there', he thought as he entered the Vault 101 entrance room, a switch on the wall, opening up a hidden door in there.

Smiling slightly in delight Carver gazed up at the huge Vault door as he spied upon the panel to open it, pulling the lever down as soon as he reached it.

Lights flaring as an alarm shrieked, the vault door opened.

He could hear guards yelling as they banged on the door behind him, "He's opening the vault! We need to get the Overseer to get this door open now."

It wasn't long before Amata came running from where I had come from, breathing heavily as she came to a stop, gasping as she watched the vault door slowly opening. "Oh my God! You actually opened it."

Nodding to her, she turned to me, shocked. "I didn't think I could make it, I was…this is… you opened it."

Beaming up at him, Amata swiftly latched onto him tightly, covering his face in kisses, laughing as Carver shied away.

When she stopped, her face sobered with worry, "I don't know what you'll find out there, but I know you can handle it."

Nodding at her confidence in him, he answered thusly. "Naturally."

Face brightening, Amata took his hands in hers, kissing each as she spoke to him, tears filling her eyes. "I will miss you, Carver. You are all that mattered to me in this prison."

A small smile broke on his face as he turned to the exit to the world; chuckling in humor, "Don't cry."

Pushing open the wooden door, hearing the vault door close behind him, Carver was blinded momentarily by the rays of light. Seeing the sun for the first time.


	3. Chapter 3

Ch. 3

The blinding light of the world was all Carver saw as the wooden door closed behind him. His vision slowly cleared up after a few moments and he finally saw what had become of the world above. A Wasteland. The Capital Wasteland to be precise. An utter husk of what the world had looked like before, from what few photos and videos we had in Vault 101.

'Beautiful,' was his only thought.

Smiling at his home, he gazed up at the sky; a long sea of a light blue with a few clouds here or there to give it some character. Dead trees and decaying, destroyed building dotted the landscape before him, giving on its own welcome to passersby. Saying simply that all they had was free, so long as you were brave enough to venture inside.

Moving forward he stopped before a barely legible sign, Scenic Overlook. Taking in the splendor of his view.

To his right he spied the high up, broken freeways, turning his gaze to the left he saw the large structure of Megaton, a mass of medal parts strung together. Moving even more to the left he saw row upon row of destroyed houses, obviously a neighborhood.

That being as good as any place to start as any, off he when exploring the splendor of Carver's new home and abode. Feeling for the first time like he could skip in excitement.


	4. Chapter 4

Ch. 4

Caution was key in Carvers' first exploration of the place called the Capital Waste. Coming, going, creeping, crawling unseen; simply observing what had become of the world above. A ceiling less, roofless heaven, sortie speak. It was a truly thrilling experience to behold the decaying and littered streets of the first remnant of what was. Springvale; a small neighborhood that held a few gems worth the time to sort through. Moving along the husk of a berg, he came upon a schooling establishment, Springvale Elementary and Carver's first episode with those called the Raiders.

The perfect definition for chaos and anarchy, these Raiders were. He spent several days following them around, observing them unseen. They were dressed in crudely scraped together material, often accompanied by a mask of some sort. They used anything at their dispose to attack and kill any who came in contact with them. It didn't seem to matter to them. Survival seemed to be the key theme to these people. And satisfaction. Raider hauntes tended to be marked with spray-painted symbols and mutilated bodies hung up with meat hooks on chains. A common symbol is a green-blue circle with the number 21 in the middle. A rarer, humorous symbol is "fuck you" written in blood. Another such symbol includes a colorful mushroom cloud.

Carver came across several kinds of creatures in his travels. Vicious, crazed dogs attacked anything that moved, often roving in packs. Not very daunting but when surrounded, they become a deadly opponent in their own right. After that he was beset by several large molerats as he tried to get some sleep one night. They were fast, fleshly creatures that were an all right meal. He was lucky he only came across one Radscorpion for they were another kind of dangerous. Also an assortment of giant ants, slow moving creatures that normally moved in large numbers.

After the first few weeks he felt safe in the knowledge of its landscape and all that roamed its lands to take on the Raiders that inhabited the Springvale Elementary. The first story opened up into a large cage, skeletons pilled on top of each other, bodies hanging from the wall. Moving through its destroyed halls, body parts laid out on the floor, rubble stacked against the walls, lockers falling over and ripped from the wall, Carver truly felt at home.

His pistol in his pocket, for easy access and his switchblade gripped tightly in his left hand, he crept along against the wall, peeking into the first room, a classroom; occupied by a female raider, equipped with a single 10mm pistol. She moved around the room in random intervals not noticing his presence. Moving up behind her, he made quick work of her life, her body falling softly onto an mattress on the floor. Looking around the room, it seemed that they were covered in mattress'.

'This must be where they sleep', was his only thought as he moved on passing ruined bathrooms and blocked hallways.

Coming across a empty room, he peered in, spying upon a first aid box. Its contents being a Stimpak and a Rad-X.

Spotting a male Raider up ahead, baseball bat in hand, Carver took aim with his 10mm pistol, gripping his switchblade in his left. With one clean shot he safely moved on, stopping by the dead body, having say an Arclight Helmet, liking how it looked and slipping it on his head.

Carver stopped at what looked to be a teacher's lounge, finding a RadAway, a few Stimpaks as well as a pack of cigarettes, lighter right beside it.

Moving upstairs, he could he two more Raiders talking, their voices a blur, he easily took care of them, throwing a grenade he found on another Raider from down stairs at them.

Grabbing a Nuka-Cola from the vending machines, he came upon a library, the books scorched beyond all recognition. Picking the lock, he moved on into another part of the school, two vicious dogs bearing down on him as soon as he entered, he grabbed one roughly, slamming it into the wall, as he turned, swinging the door into the others face. As they lay there, on the floor, he finished them off with his pistol.

Stopping to pilfer through the ammo on the table, he moved on.

Going down two flights of stairs he came to another level, just as destroyed as the ones above, bodies hanging from the walls, graffiti covering the walls and three other Raiders to play with. Carver silently took out one by one, picking up some ammo and a few more pack of cigarettes.

Seeing that he had saw all that the school had to show him, he took his leave of it.

Heading into the burning sun, he saw that he looked down into a ditch, a part of the school that had fallen down, and populated by three more Raiders. He was a blur, moving through the rubble, as he gripped two pistols in each hand, as he took them on.

One was up high, shooting at him from above, another was just a few feet away, firing at him as another ran at him, metal pipe swinging. It took him some time to take care of them. The first being the melee one, bullet to the head, after which he took out the other closest, first shooting him in the legs to cripple him, and then to the throat. After that he had to move quickly, climbing the stairs as the last shot at him from cover. Hiding behind some debris, he swung his switch blade, just as the last Raider moved, taking him in the shoulder, sprinting over to his position as he fell, bullet to the brain.

Whistling to himself as he searched their corpses, he thought, 'Well that was a job well done.'


	5. Chapter 5

Ch. 5

Carver spent some time listening to his Pip-Boy 3000. Listening to the new radio stations he has acquired, Enclave Radio and Galaxy News Radio. He spent his times, while eating or before bed, to listen to what they had to say. Both sides of the coin just seemed like propaganda. The Enclave was just being more obvious about it. Both fighting for their version of what this world should be. Neither wanted to accept the reality of what their wonderful world has become. A paradise, a wasteland.

They refused to accept what they could see with their own eyes. Still, it was very entertaining, their little rants they had. Amusing to hear their squabbles and concerns as if they even mattered in the grand scheme of things. 'They are _insignificant_,' was all that he could think to say to them if he had ever felt compelled to.

Content in the knowledge that he knew who and what _he_ was, as well as who and what the _world_ had become, Carver thought over the factions that roamed the wastes. First were the Raiders, which he has already brushed paths with more than once, not worth the second glance except when they were attacking him. Next were the Slavers, insects that fed off the creatures taken unawares and use for their personal gain. They will be exterminated. After them comes the Talon Company, the largest mercenary groups in the Wasteland. They were akane to Raiders in their need to kill anyone, take anything from them. They were an entirely useless group that did nothing but crash and burn helplessly. The Brotherhood of Steele are a neo-knightly order that are the supposed "guardians" of the Capital Waste, another delusional group of technologly fanatics who had seemed to have lost their ways, "going native", as it were. They were a force to be rechoned with but all could plainly see if you look, that they were failing. Falling to the wayside. All he had to do was sit back and wait for them to die. The True Brotherhood, the Outcasts, pursuing the origional missions that they were directed to do. Though they were few next to the numbers of Lyons Brotherhood. The last being the Enclave, the remnant of the U.S. government. Very little is known about who and what they are really about beyond the repeating messages of President John Henry Eden. It is not yet known if they are truly real or just reruns of something that is already gone. But if they do really excist, they will be a formidable foe.

Carver had amassed as much knowledge as he could from moving though the shadows, listening to the radio as well as abducting people and asking nicely all they knew. The most interesting of them all had to be their currency, bottlecaps. 'Ludicrous,' he had laughed at the thought. 


	6. Chapter 6

Ch. 6

Looking up at the large mound of tin and rusting metal that glinted harshly in his Post-Apocalyptic Utopia, Carver pondered his wild idea that stuck him early in the morning, squatting in an abandoned decaying house, holding his recently acquired Chinese Assault rifle tightly to him, trembling violently from the aftereffects of a particularly awful nightmare. He didn't remember much of what it was he had been dreaming about, all that remained was the weight of infinite, unrelenting darkness that rolled over his pale, rough body.

After he woke, drank from the tainted water source and ate some rough molerat meat, he assessed his gear, making sure he had everything in his procession; the weapons he had gained, food and water, ammo, medical supplies as well as the fair amount of bottlecaps he has acquired over the last few weeks. After that was done, he then went about the process of backtracking all his steps, back to where he knew Megaton was located, mowing down all that dared step in his path.

He finally stopped a few clicks away from the scrapped together structure to stow away all the items he did not think he would be needing in such a _civilized_ town. Putting away most of his heavy weapons, his clothes that he wore in Vault 101, the spares as well as the security uniform he had stolen. Hiding them securely away so no one would ever find them.

After that, he went about the process of putting on a grimy Pre-War Business wear. A dark and suave suit that Carver had found cooped up in one of the destroyed buildings he had explored. A pair of matching leather, black gloves and a decent pair of Tortoiseshell Glasses to finish the look. As well as two combat knifes, a switchblade and a couple of grenades stashed on his person. After strapping the Chinese Assault rifle onto his back and securing his silenced 10mm pistol to his side, both in clear sight.

Moving silently the rest of the way, Carver pondered his next move, his grand entrance into the first settlement outsides his former Vault. He ignored the entrance to the town, instead moving to the back, following along the giant rusting walls, looking for the perfect spot. Stopping finally upon seeing the large jutting pole, seeing how high it went up.

Satisfied with it, he systematically went about the process of climbing up said, wall, grunting all the way up. Gripping it tightly in his fist, he swung himself onto the pole, hearing that some inhabitants of the town had noticed his progress. Loud exclaims, cheering and jeering his trip up. Concern and scorn colored many tones as he continued his fun crusade.

Carver stopped for a moment, swinging his body faster and faster before just letting go, much to the shock and loud shrieking of those below, barely catching with his legs, the next part, higher up, that he couldn't reach before. Pulling himself up, grabbing it with his arms, he continued.

It took him awhile before he reached the top, the sun glaring brightly down at him, possibly in disapproval of what he was doing.

Carver stood firmly, red eyes glaring at the sky, hooking his legs firmly to were he was and he sat there for several moments, just bathing in the glow of the apocalyptic sun before he thrust his arms into the sky firmly as if spreading wings for flight.

The cheer from the small berg was almost deafening.

He let it them for a time, before he began to sway to and fro, his arms still raised firmly to the sky, the pole moving with him. It took numerous minutes before him and the pole were jerking firmly back and forth until he almost came toward the people below him, putting more and more of his weight and strength with every sway of the pole. It finally came when all that remained between his fast moving form and the inhabitants of Megaton was a few feet.

Muscles aching sweat dripping on his brow, Carver felt it was time to let go. Letting go of the pole just as it was it's closest it could get to the people, flipping in midair, landing firmly on the ground as he turned to see the pole flicking all over the place, taking a few minutes to settle down to its original state.

Crocking his head to the side as Carver turned his gaze back to the inhabitants, he told them simply. "Evening."


	7. Chapter 7

Ch. 7

It was peculiar. Carver stood before these people. These people of the waste-filled wilderness that was their everyday life, each and every person that inhabited it before his gaze, staring at his pale form. His unusual physic distracting many of them from doing or saying or asking anything. They just stared. They just probed him with their eyes, hoping that that would tell them everything they would need to know.

Carver was silent and still. An unmoving pillar standing fast and free through the weather and strife and hopelessness of it all. Scanning, seeking, searching, questing through the people of Megaton; taking in their meager apparel, their dirty appearances and their awed expressions. Why? Not even he knew. It felt important to take in everything he saw and carve it into his mind.

They made no move to arm themselves. Made no move to question him. Made no move to even return the greetings he had bid them when he had first arrived in this metal ditch. His first stop in what the civilized world had become. A little berg that seemed to barely survive.

It was peculiar.

Chewing on his lip, Carver continued his staring contest with the town, until he grew jaded. He had come for contact, he had come for tidings, he had come for clear division and he had come upon ennui.

Clicking his tongue sharply to himself, he lifted his right sleeve and turned on his Pip-Boy 3000, lighting up his surroundings in an instant, tweaking it as he ignored all around him before he found the right frequency and then music burst forth from what was a silent day.

Looking up he saw many were startled and confused by what they were seeing and hearing but they weren't moving away. They listened as the song went on, some nodding to the beat of the music and as it came to a close, Carver saw that they were more relaxed than before. They still looked at him in awe, in reverence, but they seemed more open, more content with the knowledge that he was here.

Stepping forward was a fairly fit man, a shotgun strapped to his back, he seemed unsure of himself as he stood under Carvers gaze. Coughing to himself, the man finally spoke, "Hello newcomer."

Carver's emotionless face showed nothing as he crocking his head to the side, he didn't respond.

Waiting a moment to see if Carver would reply, the man continued, "I'm Lucas Simms, the…the town sheriff. And mayor too, I suppose."

Narrowing his scarlet eyes at the man, Carver leaning forward, and watched how everyone seemed to shrink away at the movement, he spoke, "Is that right?"

Spoken more as a statement than a question, Lucas Simms still answered him. "Why, yes sir. It be true. This is Megaton."

His face forming into a crooked, warped kind of a smile, Carver moved forward, at a slow steady pace towards the man and it showed, clearly, that he was afraid but it wasn't until he was almost upon him did Simms react, stepping back slightly.

Carver towered over the man, his white hair stirring in the soft wind as he leaned down towards the smaller man, pursing his lips in thought, contemplating the scope of it all. 'What to do…' was his only thought as he took the leader of these people by the scruff of the neck, knowing without looking that no one had made a move from where they were standing. Mesmerized by what was transpiring before their eyes.

"Lucas… May I call you Lucas?" Caver gave him no time to respond. "Ya' see, Lucas, I'm in a bit of a dilemma. Just a bit. Could you be a dear and help me out with that?"

Swallowing nervously, Lucas responded. "Sure, anything you need…"

"Good. Good…" His voice deepened with the last word, almost into a growl.

Head crocking back, eyes rolling back in his head, Carver thought for a moment before he turned back sharply, pulling Lucas closer to him as he spoke again, louder than before. "Tell these people they follow me, now. This is **my** city."

Gasps and exclaims from the crowd drowned out anything Lucas Simms would have said, if he had said anything. All he did was look up at Carvers pale face, at his strange hair and glowing eyes before any thought could penetrate any part of his mind. Gazing into the eyes of his killer if he answered this outlandish person incorrectly, or not at all even. So he did what he had to; he caved.

Nodding his acceptance to Carvers bizarre demands, Lucas Simms, mayor and sheriff, stepped down. He removed his hat, letting it drop to the floor as Carver let him go, stepping away from the defeated man but still before him.

"Now, Lucas. Gather everyone important in this little berg and present them before me." He commanded him.

Lucas did as instructed without hesitation, moving among the onlookers and did as Caver bade him.

Rocking back on his heels, Carver waited, humming to himself as the town of Megaton hustled and bustled upon his command.

'What to do…'


	8. Chapter 8

Ch. 8

Hustling and bustling movement sprung up all around him but Carver seemed oblivious to the ordered chaos of the new metal ditch he had acquired for himself. Shuffling back and forth to music only he seemed to be able to hear, mumbling here and there to himself about things no one seemed to be able to understand, if they were listening, that is.

No, the populace of this little, rusted berg were all elsewhere, moving, venturing and questing to follow Carver's last directive, the majority never questioning their tasks set down to them from the up and up; his authority.

Leaving Simms to coordinate the small masses of Megaton to converge in a way most suitable to Carver's needs. His current needs, that is.

After a time, the courtyard was all but empty except for Carver's towering, pale form, still maintaining his awkward shuffle of a dance; non-longer remembering why he was here, what he was doing or why he should questioning his current situation.

A hesitant, smaller frame walked up behind him, clearly afraid of disturbing, whatever it is Carver was doing, taking a few moments to collect themselves before they could attempt to gain his attention, tapping him softly on the shoulder, hoping for the best, not even prepared for the worst.

Stilling his motions, Carver turned his now burning gaze onto the intruder, finding the former sheriff, Lucas Simms trying to get his attention, standing meekly behind him, unmistakably wanting to say something, from his pleading expression.

"Did you need something?" Was his almost hissed question.

Nodding softly, Simms spoke quickly in response. "Yes sir, we moved all the people that do not own a home and locked them in the common house."

Narrowing his eyes, Carver asked. "And you are sure you made it impossible for them to leave?"

Swiftly nodding his head he continued. "We have then closed off the town to the outside world, as well as rounded up all who own a home and put them in the 'Children of Atom' church, where they are waiting for you, eh, sir."

Smirking slightly, Carver responded, "And where are the 'children' of the atom now?"

Swallowing, Simms answered him. "The leaders, Confessor Cromwell and Mother Maya are in the church, as they do own it but the rest of them are locked up in the common house as well…"

"Very nice work, boyo, truly…" He trailed off, before focusing again. "Now, lets be going then, don't want to keep them waiting, now do we?"

Gesturing to him, Simms led the way to the church, pushing it open for him, to a loud uproar.

The citizens of Megaton were all talking at once, their voices merging, blurring together to become pure gibberish; a chorus of sound and noise that was rare in these days of post-apocalyptical U.S of A. Naturally as soon as Carver was detected by the occupants of this poorly put together building, they fell utterly silent, faces focused solely on the one who has taken the mantle of leadership of whatever that remains of a society that exists here, in a world of their own.

Sweeping his gaze across the crowd, scowling softly at their behavior before he moved forward, the people parting without a thought, for him. His steady steps where the only sound, echoing through the room before he finally stood upon the podium, stopping and turning to face the throng, wiping invisible dust from his Pre-War business suit.

Silence dominated the room.

Sucking on his bottom lip in thought, Carver shrugged his shoulders, and went about the process of detaching his weapons. First his silenced 10mm pistol, setting it before him, plainly in view for everyone and then turning to unhook his Chinese Assault rifle beside it.

Stroking its metal surface fondly, Carver finally faced the multitude of denizens of this smear on the map. All eyes on him, he finally spoke.

"The world is dead and gone."

Bewildered, alarmed and awed by what he had said, it was apparent that they wanted him to continue.

So, clicking his tongue, he elaborated. "What was once Earth, what was once our blue world, is dead. All you need to do is step outside this poorly slapped together shack to see that. The evidence is all around you but everyone refuses to listen, hiding away in these hovels ignoring the outside wasteland. The signs show you unequivocal truth. Whatever was before the bombs fell, before the fallout doesn't matter anymore. Those ancient people are dead now and a remnant of a remnant is all that remains."

Gasps, shudders and shouts came from the crowd, disbelief being the most prominent emotion among them.

"What's all this to do?" Exclaimed a gruff voice, as a fairly muscular man moved through the crowd, scowling up at Carver.

Carver seemed almost bored with this man's display as he approached him, confusing the people greatly, fearful of what was going to happen and confused for who.

The man, dressed in leather armor strode before him, yelling obscurities loudly, only stopping momentarily when he stood before the podium, looking up at Carver's pastel, unconcerned form. That was when Carver finally seemed to notice him, eyeing him in humor as he stepped down, moving toward the unfortunate man.

Worried looks passed between the onlookers as they saw this, the man in leather backing away slowly, his brain finally catching up with his anger, not sure what he could do to remedy the situation but there was nothing he could do.

Carver was a haze of fluid motion as he grasped the man's shirt, swinging him around in an almost effortless movement, twice before the man was slammed into the wall, groaning in pain but motionless in his defense, gaping up at the glowing, bristling eyes of something not of this globe.

"Now, … now that was uncalled for… No, it was just plain **brainless**." Growling the last word, he continued. "And so unwise to meddle with someone as un-hinged as myself. I'm just providing a little truth, a little scope for what remains of the intelligent creatures on this blue sphere. Is that so hard to grasp?"

His face was a sheet as he looked up at Carver, no answer coming to him. No way that he could think of that could get him out of this. And now understanding fully and finally that maybe he won't be getting out of this. Alive anyway.

So he gave up.

"Alright, alright. Kill me. Do me in; it was bound to happen sooner or later but I do, … I do want to listen to what you have to say, uh, sir. So, could ya' kill me after?" the man in leather pleaded.

Tilting his head in thought, Carver pondered.

Then struck the man across the face and not even pausing to see what the man in leather would do, Carver turned away, striding back to the podium nonchalantly, whistling to himself to further enforce the thought.

Taking the stand he faced the audience, beginning again as if nothing had happened.

"So many reject this fact, the Brotherhood of Steele, for instance. They cling to something that will never be again. They are grasping the dead and are therefore being drowned by them, like them. Because they refuse this one simple certainty; we are all that remain, a mere memory of whatever facade was before us. Adhere to that veneer and you will join them, in oblivion!"

Carver stood proudly, somehow standing with his back straight and slouching at the same time as the throng almost roared. Their voices a reverent, an awed and daunted stream of clamor, that without a shadow of a doubt showed that they were moved, almost captured and taken in by the memorandum that was his voice, his visage, his very being. In that moment he had achieved perfection, and a moment was the most you could ever expect from perfection.

Their voices screaming for help, yelling for guidance, pleading for Carver to continue his message and take them into the palm of his perfection so they can all create some for themselves.

A pale hand raised by him was all that was needed to gain their silence and they eagerly awaited what else he had to declare.

"This is my city." They yell their agreement. "You are my people." They screamed their agreement. "We will attain what who came before us could never achieve." They shouted their agreement. "We will create a Golden Age, that will stretch as far as the eyes can see." They screeched their agreement.

Silence reigned as he stepped down from the podium, moving to the still, prone form of the man in leather, a bruise beginning to form where he had been struck but he seemed unconcerned with it, as he seemed locked on the figure of Carver, looking as if he'd never seen like before.

When Carver stood before him, he bowed his head, waiting for the end to happen. He was astonished when nothing occurred; he finally got up the courage to look at Carver, surprised to see an amused look upon his face. The pale, red-eyed man told him coldly.

"Recognize this as a holy gift and celebrate this chance to be alive and living."

Chuckling with no humor, Carver turned from him to glance at the adoring faces of his people, standing tall as they all bowed before him as one, doing so of their own free will, all on their own. It's a good thing.


	9. Chapter 9

Ch. 9

They stayed at their prone positions, most with their eyes closed as they showed reverence to their new ruler. The first **true** ruler this Capital Waste has ever had, Carver was sure.

Hands behind his back, he pondered what he was doing and where had that speech actually come from. Those thoughts and concepts have never crossed his mind before, nor had he been thinking about them before hand. 'Maybe, they had been brewing in the back of my mind, the entire time that I had ventured through the waste that had become our world, maybe I was compelled to do this, and maybe it is my purpose…'

Scoffing to himself softly, he pushed that thought aside. Carver knew firmly that he was born for this, born to it. It was his …

Coming back to himself, he was reminded of the presence of the citizens of Megaton, by the soft whispering that was going on, and as he finally focused on them, he came upon a most peculiar sight.

Several small children were huddled to the side, their little forms kneeling by each other. It was obvious that they had sneaked into the church, when they were not permitted to hear the speech with the adults.

Carver pursed his lips in thought, hands falling to his side as he moved to where they were situated, and the crowd still frozen in their veneration. Stopping until he stood in front of them, unbuttoning his dirty Pre-War suit as he kneeled to their level, curious of what they would do when they noticed his presence.

It took the brood some time to even notice Carver, which showed how engrossed they were in their whispered banter. He began to sway back and forth to music only he could hear as he waited for them to detect that he was there.

He took the time to take in their appearances; first was the small, dark-skinned boy dressed in a blue type of trench coat, with a little tie to complete the look. Beside him sat a skinny Asian girl, dark black hair seeming to be barely maintained, dressed in a girly pink and white outfit. Next to her sat a tiny, pale form of girl, redheaded and freckled and she sat curled up, bare feet dirty and unclean.

Carver captured that in the few minutes it took for the three to notice him, jumping back in terror, eyes wide as they froze in fright, locking eyes into his foreboding gaze.

Tapping his fingers softly on his side, Carver asked them severely, "What'cha doing?"

Each looked at each other in turn before any even thought of answering, finally the dark-skinned boy mustered up the courage to respond, "We… we were just seeing what was going on, sir. We didn't mean to interfere or anything."

Gazing at them, face a blank slate of nothing as he took that in, Carver finally spoke again, smiling softly, "It was rude of me not to have included you little ones, you are apart of this place as well."

They all beamed up at him, glad that they were not going to be punished for sneaking in and they were very attentive when he continued speaking.

"What are your names, now?" Carver asked him in a soft tone.

Smiling up at him, the boy answered. "Harden Simms, my pa's the sheriff."

The Asian girl answered soon after him. "I'm Maggie, mister."

Smiling a pearly white smile, the redheaded girl told him proudly. "My name is Rain."

As they beamed up at him, trusting him completely, he turned his gaze to the rest who occupied the large room, seeing them watch the interaction between himself and the children of the town.

Carver gazed down at their small, smiling faces, fully taking in the delight they are feeling from his approval, face a thoughtful mask. Pursing his lips in thought, his head tilted back, eyes rolling in the back of his head as he pondered what it is he was doing…

He straightened and stood in a flash, scarlet eyes honed in on the children's surprised faces at the sudden movement.

Smiling thinly down at them he began again, "Well, it was rude of me to ask your names and not offer mine as well, wasn't it?"

They each looked at each other, unsure on how they were supposed to answer. Unsure on what answer he wanted, honesty or not. The adults of the town, looked on in reverence, looking to their newfound leader, almost begging for the answer to that question. 'They needed to know his name…'

It took a few moments but as one, they each nodded to each other, before turning to gaze at his unblinking ruby like eyes, his face twisting in almost a half-smile as he spoke to them, softly, only heard because of the silence that had taken the room as a whole.

"You can call me… Malificaus."

Their faces brightened like the sun of the world that used to hang high in the sky of what our world once was, huddling closer to him in awe and reverence.

The town of Megaton shuddered under the change they knew that this strange individual shall bring with his coming, as their voices joined as one, yelling in the delight of what was occurring.

"All Hail Lord Malificaus!"


	10. Chapter 10

Ch. 10

Murmuring to himself, not even sure what language he is speaking, he watched the people of these now loyal and faithful citizens of the capital city of which he will now build. A burgeoning population that he will carve into stone, resurrect it to the former glory of the Old World and beyond, to something beyond a mere city or struggling town… absolution. Something that which no wasteland thug or Brotherhood stooge could every hope to match. Rapture.

His voice cutting through the silence that had overcome his Capital City, Carver finally talking to his followers directly, no longer lost within himself, "We need a change…"

Eagar eyes and easy grins answered his announcement, his people not 100% sure what their leader exactly meant but they were all ears, so to speak.

"What you have built, what you maintain and what you have strived for is admirable…" He quietly told them, his face soft as they gained proud looks from his random act of praise but they quickly vanished as he continued, "But it is not enough! You squander and barely survive the life you have chosen to live and you sit back and let it stay as it is… When you could be so much more."

Carver's most loyal, most faithful took in his scolding, wincing in mental pain at the thought of their small success but ultimately failure and they took in the verbal punishment they felt they deserved. Hopeful looks overcame them when they heard his soft words of encouragement, knowing that he was speaking the truth that they could achieve more, with the right leadership…

He began again, "The Old World set forth with many goals and ideals, firmly believing themselves on the right and just path… But where are they now?" He asked them sarcastically. "What has become of the so-called 'master's of the Earth'?"

Angry voices rose from the crowd, all thinking the same thing.

"They're dead!"

Nodding his head softly, scarlet eyes thoughtful of what he had heard. "They destroyed themselves and they very nearly destroyed 'their' world. Leaving barely any of us left to try to pick up the pieces."

Eyes alert, focusing in on the crowd, his voice rose. "But you know what? We don't have to pick up the pieces. We don't need their goals or ideals or anything that they hold dear because we aren't them. We are superior…"

Captivated by his words, they listened in. "Do you want to know why?" Many nodding and shouting for the answer eagerly, "Because we are still alive. We still live and breathe and we will not lie down and die like they did, holding onto ideals that have been proven do not work."

Many were visibly shaken by what Carver had to say, some even falling to their knees and looking up to him in awe, asking aloud. "What do we do then?"

Eyes aglow in an almost fanatical scarlet light, he continued, "We will choose our own path and create our own Empire that will stand the test of time and prove that we have the right and the will to encompass what is left of the world. It will be our to wield… TOO CONTROL!"

The last bit came out as almost a roar that seemed to wash over the crowd, filling them with more than false hope; it filled them with knowledge and with the promise of a safe and secure society that they can live and prosper in into the future…

Carver sat back in his makeshift throne, obviously thrown together at the last minute. 'Merely a temporary situation…' was his only thought on the subject as he took in the kneeing forms of his more important followers.

Lucas at the front of them, the bravest of the four, having been closely around him more than the others, he spoke softly in the silence, "We have closed off the Capital as you have requested, my Lord."

Without responding Carver looked from one person to the other, Lucas calming looking back at him, while the other three bowed their heads.

The loudmouth Jericho seeming to look uncomfortable in his kneeling position but not protesting.

The leaders of the 'Children of the Atom', Cromwell and Maya seeming completely uncertain why their presence was here, fidgeting and stealing glances at each other in their uncertainty.

An uncomfortable silence fell when Carver didn't respond, so Lucas began to speak, "My Lord, -"

Carver waved his hand slowly, cutting him off mid-sentence and Lucas lowered his eyes swiftly as Carver rose from where he sat, moving towards their still kneeling forms. As he stood before them, he griped Cromwell's chin tightly in his fist, forcing him to look at him.

"You lead the 'Children of the Atom', yes?" Carver asked him softly.

"Y-yes, my Lord." Was Cromwell's hesitant answer.

"You have accepted me as your Lord and Master, correct?" He continued his questioning.

"Of course." Cromwell swiftly replied.

"Hmmm… Curious then… Because I do not believe in the 'Church of the Atom', so why then, do you believe it?" And as he asked this, Cromwell paled deeply, showcasing just how old he really was.

Seeming almost to be thinking out loud, Carver continued. "Then that means there is no 'Church of the Atom', right?" Mocking red eyes, looked back and forth between Cromwell and Maya. "Right?"

They both looked deeply troubled as they stole glances at each other, debating before their hesitant replay came back.

"Of course, my Lord."

Their voice's were steady and calm as Carver turned away from them, pleased with what he had achieved, softly murmuring to himself, clearly loud for all in the room to hear, "Good… Good. My people will believe in what is real. They will believe in the absolution that is my will and all that will be enough. For now."


End file.
